12. Chapter Twelve

The packages took Rylan by surprise. He found them on his bed when he returned to his room after scrounging some lunch in the kitchens (he was left to his own devices regarding breakfast and lunch these days, the only meal they still delivered to his room was dinner, and he suspected that was to keep him out of the way of Bautista and Carmelita).

There were several air-freight bags that squished when he squeezed them. He knew instinctively what would be inside, but his curiosity was climbing the walls. There was no note, but he knew who must have got them for him.

Bautista.Rylan bit his lip as he peeled open the packages. Maybe it was nothing. Well, it was almost certainly clothing, but maybe—

His jaw dropped as turquoise silk spilled out over his fingers.

In his hands was a beautiful, peacock hued dressing gown. Rylan smoothed the fabric between his fingers and then lifted it to his face, breathing in the scent of it. Silk. Real silk, like dry water, slithering between his fingers. He shook out the dressing gown and held it up. It was beautiful. The idea of Bautista purchasing it was impossible. It must be some kind of mistake.

The rest of the packages were less exciting but oddly intriguing. White silk boxer briefs, to replace the nasty polyester ones Rylan had been given earlier. White, oversize bamboo t-shirts and a pair of casual trousers to match, light and breezy in this climate. A pair of pale leather sandals. A bottle of lightly scented moisturizer.

This was overwhelming.

As Rylan unfolded the clothes, he admired their quality. He bit his lip, wondering what Bautista had been thinking. Why would a man like him want to dress someone like Rylan like this?

"Only one way to find out," he muttered as he began to undress. He began with the silk boxer briefs, sliding them up his long legs and adjusting the waistband. The fabric clung to his skin like a second layer, soft and luxurious. Rylan ran his fingertips over the silk, feeling the delicate material against his body.

He examined the casual trousers, the lightweight fabric running smoothly between his fingers. Well made, no flaws. The T-shirts were the same. Bautista had spared no expense.

After some hesitation, he picked up the peacock hued dressing gown. It was beautiful, something he might have bought for himself and probably not appreciated the way he should. He did now. Tempted, he draped it around his shoulders and cinched the belt. The silk felt like a kiss on his skin.

Standing before the full-length mirror, Rylan took a deep breath and studied his reflection. The colors of the dressing gown seemed to sing against his pale skin, making his lavender eyes appear even more vibrant. In this he looked different—confident, attractive, more like himself.

He imagined Bautista's reaction, the cruel glint in his dark eyes as he took in Rylan's changed appearance. This thought made him flush with heat. The more he imagined Bautista's gaze upon him, the stronger this sensation grew, until it flickered in the pit of his stomach. Rylan found himself unable to look away from the mirror, captivated by the transformation that Bautista's gift had brought about.

Will he like it?Rylan had no idea. If he could see Bautista's face…

The sound of the door creaking open shattered Rylan's trance, and he spun around in alarm, his heart pounding as if trying to escape his chest. Bautista stood in the doorway, his eyes roving over Rylan's body with an intensity that made him feel both vulnerable and exposed. He struggled to find words, finally settling on a weak, "You...you didn't knock."

"This is my house," Bautista replied, stepping into the room and smirking as he took in Rylan's flustered demeanour. He casually closed the door behind him, and turned the key in the lock.

Rylan swallowed, feeling his pulse skyrocket.

"I see you've found my gifts," Bautista said, eyeing Rylan like a predator sizing up its prey. "Do they meet with your approval?" he asked, his mouth curving into a cruel, mocking smile.

"Y-yes," Rylan stammered, his voice betraying his fear and arousal. "Thank you." He tried to appear calm and collected, but he couldn't help the weakness in his legs or the rapid beating of his heart.

"Good," Bautista said, stepping in front of him. His dark, predatory gaze was fixed on Rylan's face, as if analyzing every reaction. "That robe is frivolous and unnecessary. It suits you."

His voice dripped with mockery. Rylan knew he was being objectified, reduced to nothing more than a plaything for Bautista's amusement. But for some reason, this did not make Bautista less attractive.

"Take it off," Bautista commanded, his voice low and demanding. His eyes never left Rylan's face, relishing the hesitation and uncertainty that flickered across his features.

With shaking hands, Rylan obeyed, slowly untying the robe. He let it slide from his shoulders, pooling at his feet like spilled paint.

"Ah, much better," Bautista murmured, his eyes raking over Rylan's exposed body with undisguised avarice.

Rylan couldn't suppress the thrill of excitement that arced down his nerves. He felt vulnerable, exposed, and under Bautista's control. And for some reason, he craved it.

"Turn around," Bautista ordered. Rylan complied, presenting his back. "You have such a delicate body. Pathetic." The words should have stung. It should have wounded Rylan's pride and made him want to resist. Instead, he felt a rush of heat, a thrill coursing through him.

"Please," Rylan whispered, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was asking for. Mercy? More? Whatever it was, Bautista seemed to understand; he stepped closer, his hand coming to rest possessively on Rylan's hip.

"Please?" Bautista echoed, his voice dripping with mock concern as he applied pressure to Rylan's hip, forcing him to arch his back and lean into the stronger man's touch. "You'll have to be more specific, little prince."

"Please," Rylan repeated, the word a gasping plea for all that he couldn't quite articulate. He wanted Bautista's touch, his control, his dominance. And, God help him, he wanted it now.

Bautista chuckled darkly as he pressed closer, his body heat enveloping Rylan like a cloak. "You're desperate, aren't you?" he whispered into Rylan's ear, sending shivers over his skin.

"Y-yes," Rylan stammered, finally admitting it.

"Good boy," Bautista praised, his hand sliding around Rylan's waist, pulling him closer. "Now, repeat after me: I belong to you."

Rylan hesitated for a moment, knowing that this was the point of no return. But he knew there was no other choice. "I...I belong to you," he whispered.

Bautista smirked, his hand tightening on Rylan's skin. "Say it again," Bautista demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me who you belong to."

"I belong to you, Bautista," Rylan murmured, feeling his heart race. The words were like a mantra, binding them together in a way that both terrified and exhilarated him.

Bautista leaned in, putting his mouth close to Rylan's ear. "That's right, my little prince," he whispered, his breath hot against Rylan's skin. "You're mine now, completely and utterly."

Rylan's body buzzed under the weight of those words, fear and lust coursing through his veins. He knew he should be more resistant, but the truth was, he had never felt more alive than in this moment, with Bautista's arms around him demanding his submission.

"Please," Rylan begged, his voice barely more than a whimper as he pressed himself closer to the older man. "I want your cock so much."

The predatory gleam in Bautista ‘s eyes was unmistakable. His hands roamed over Rylan's body, tracing the curve of his waist, the span of his hips, the curve of his ass.

Suddenly, he gripped Rylan and tossed him onto the bed. Rylan gasped, but then Bautista had man-handled him over onto his chest. Soft sheets beneath his cheek; the rough grip of Bautista's hand on the back of his neck. He felt the weight of the older man behind him, heat radiating from his body.

"Stay still," Bautista whispered harshly into Rylan's ear, his breath hot and heavy. "Don't misbehave."

Rylan drew in a shaky breath, his mind racing with excitement and dread. His body was betraying him, responding to Bautista in ways he could not control. He knew that he should be afraid, that this was not something he should want or even permit. But his body seemed to belong solely to the man hovering above him, and it was intoxicating.

Bautista reached down to stroke Rylan's hair. It was almost tender. But then he gripped Rylan's curls and yanked his head back. The sudden jolt of pain made Rylan gasp, but his body sang with sweet anticipation.

This was it, surely. This was the moment he'd get what he'd been craving. Please, he thought, his eyes prickling. Please.

***

Bautista stared down at Rylan's vulnerable body laid out on the bed. The sight of him there for the taking sent a jolt of excitement down Bautista's veins.

He almost regretted taking off that ludicrous dressing gown. He wanted now to push it up over Rylan's hips, to see it pooled above his ass. That's why he'd bought the fucking thing for Rylan in the first place, after all.

He shouldn't be doing this. And yet he felt it was inevitable. Better now, when he was in control of himself, than later, when his control broke.

Just this once,he told himself. He pulled down Rylan's boxers, exposing that ass for the first time.

In that moment, he felt an unparalleled sense of relief. Rylan was his to do with as he pleased, to shape and mold into the perfect submissive plaything. This obsession with his captive had grown powerful in him, and now he was allowing himself to indulge it.

He didn't need to think about that would happen after, what it might mean. In this room, with this person, it meant nothing.

He traced his fingers along Rylan's bare skin, reveling in the way the younger man melted beneath his touch. There was something intoxicating about breaking someone so innocent, so untouched by the brutality of his world.

Because he was not a monster, Bautista took the tube of lubricant out of his pocket and tossed it on the bed, as well as the handful of condoms he'd grabbed on his way to Rylan's room. He didn't think about how premeditated that made this, all he thought about was the blood flooding to his cock at the sight of Rylan so helpless, and so desperate to belong to him.

His hand hesitated slightly as he reached between Rylan's thighs, fingers teasing the smooth, pale skin. He knew what he wanted to do—what he needed to do—but there was a small part of him that resisted. It felt wrong, like he was betraying some part of himself. But the hunger inside him was too strong to ignore.

Without speaking, Bautista found Rylan's entrance and gently pressed one finger against it. The sensation of pushing past that tight ring of muscle was both thrilling and terrifying for Bautista. He felt a surge of power at the knowledge that Rylan was willingly submitting to him, even as he tried not to think about the consequences of their actions.

The contact was dry. Bautista had done this specific act with women enough times to know the lube was necessary. He wanted to have Rylan, not hurt him. Well, not hurt him in this way. So Bautista squeezed lube onto Rylan's hole, and pressed in.

As he slowly worked his finger inside, Rylan let out a soft moan. The sound sparked heat in Bautista's belly. It was all the encouragement he needed—he added a second finger, stretching Rylan carefully, preparing him for what was to come.

It felt forbidden. It was forbidden, and yet, how different was it really from the times he had done this with women?

A world away,he thought, the blood roaring in his ears. Rylan was not a woman, and Bautista was powerfully aware of that fact. Rylan was a man. And Bautista wanted him. He knew that now.

Whenever Bautista wanted something, he took it.

Rylan was whimpering, a needy edge to it, and it made Bautista's cock ache with anticipation. He knew he couldn't hold back any longer, and without a word, Bautista removed his fingers. The tear of a foil wrapper drew a soft sound from Rylan's lips, as if he recognized it for what it was. Bautista slid the condom on and pressed the latex-slick head of his cock to Rylan's entrance. The younger man's body tensed beneath him and then relaxed, offering no resistance, only acceptance.

Bautista pushed forward slowly, savoring the tight heat that surrounded him as he slid in. Rylan's voice shook, sweet moans escaping from his lips. It was intoxicating, each needy sound driving Bautista deeper into a haze of lust. Rylan's body was hot, and Bautista felt him giving way, surrendering and submitting completely.

To me. He's submitting to me. He wants this. More than I do.

He fucked Rylan slowly, deliberately, wanting to draw out every last ounce of pleasure from this. With each slow thrust, Bautista felt the wrongness of this fade, replaced by a strange certainty. He drove in deeper, and Rylan keened, rocking his hips up to meet the thrust, and Bautista felt it in his gut. Yes, this was everything he'd feared it would be, too good to ignore again.

Just this once,he'd told himself, but once was never going to be enough. This intense pleasure, this desire was in him now and he could not deny it.

Suddenly, Rylan's body tensed, and a sharp cry escaped his lips. Bautista felt Rylan buck beneath him and realized he had come without a touch on his cock. The thought made Bautista wild with lust, and he drove into Rylan harder.

He knew this was wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this, but it was impossible to resist the intoxicating pull of Rylan's body beneath him. With each thrust, Bautista buried himself deeper, losing himself in the intense pleasure coursing through him. Rylan moaned softly beneath him, and Bautista's pace grew faster, more urgent. He felt his control slipping away. Finally, with a deep, heartfelt groan, he came inside Rylan, his body quaking with the force of his orgasm. His head rang with overwhelming pleasure, and for a moment, he felt emptied—he'd never come so hard in his life. It flooded him, drowning every thought and feeling except for the rightness of this. How Rylan belonged to him, and he belonged inside Rylan, taking what he wanted.

As the haze began to fade, however, reality quickly set in.

Dangerously close. That's what they were, Bautista realized, and the thought sent a chill down his spine.

Without speaking, he pulled out of Rylan's body with slow deliberation, and stood.

Rylan lay helpless on his belly, one knee drawn up under him, exposing the hole Bautista had just fucked so recklessly. It glistened, slick and inviting, but Bautista felt a stab of guilt. This should never have happened. He had fooled himself into thinking this was something he could control, but that wasn't true. A wave of revulsion came over him, directed inward at the man he had always believed himself to be.

But when he looked at Rylan, the revulsion shifted into something else, something without a name.

With a sharp shake of the head, Bautista pulled himself together. The condom went in the trash along with the wrapper. He tucked his shirt in, zipped and buckled his pants. Then he turned to leave, but the sound of Rylan's hitched breath stopped him in his tracks. It sounded like he was on the verge of tears, and it tugged at something deep within Bautista—a part of him he'd long believed was dead.

He stood still, unable to walk away without…what? He didn't know. Without thinking, he reached out and gently ran his hand down Rylan's back. He felt the younger man melt beneath the warmth of his touch, and it did something strange inside him, something he did not want to examine closely.

So he didn't. Without saying anything more, Bautista left the room, closing the door softly behind him.